by Nicole Dere
I waited, partly in dread and partly in quivering anticipation, for Krista to make another move. When several days passed and she didn’t single me out except for that public demonstration of favour towards me, I was shocked at my disappointment. She did not spend very much time with us now, she merely looked in on us every morning, and then once in the early evening. We were guarded entirely by the natives of the country we were being held in. We saw no sign of the other kidnappers, and we were too afraid to raise any more questions about the male hostages, or about anything else at all. We tried to work out how long we had been held prisoner. It was surprising how difficult it was to keep track of time. Our watches had been removed the day after we were brought off the plane. We each had our own biological clocks within us, though – another source of painful embarrassment in our present depleted circumstances, and one that did entail our humble pleas to an amused Krista – and eventually we could calculate that it was seventeen days since our seizure.
‘It feels more like seventeen months,’ someone said ruefully, and sighed with longing.
‘More like seventeen years, you mean,’ someone else added fervently.
Then one morning, Krista came in and declared, ‘You girls must get some exercise. You must keep yourselves in shape. Look at you.’ We certainly didn’t need to worry about gaining weight. We had all lost weight, some of us noticeably. The diet, though not meagre in quantity, was depressingly unappetising. Lots of coarse bread, heaps of badly cooked rice, and gristly, stringy meat whose origin we dared not speculate on. There was a little fruit, water, and weak, milky tea to drink. It was true we needed exercise; we spent almost all our time lounging on our mattresses. After all, there was little else to do besides shower.
The room, with its concrete floor, was entirely bare with no furniture of any kind, and it was quite chilly at night. In the daytime, however, it was stiflingly hot, the sun pouring in through the long windows which lined one wall and through which we could see an empty stretch of tarmac, and then that tall, waving yellow grass. We were forbidden to go anywhere near the windows. We had no reading matter, nothing to occupy us except each other. That was why we learnt about each other so quickly.
‘You must do these exercises every morning from now on.’ Under the amused grins of the guards, Krista made us line up in front of our mattresses, and put us through a routine of stretching, bending, and jogging on the spot that soon had a number of us puffing and blowing, our breath rasping painfully.
After two or three press-ups, most of us collapsed on our tummies, helpless as landed fish. Only Nicky, her body still looking splendidly in shape despite the last three weeks or so, kept going. Suddenly, the atmosphere became noticeably tense, the rest of us lying there panting heavily and watching as the wonderful physique pumped up and down, her muscles rippling and standing out under her still-golden tan – and the fading stripes of the beating, which marked her paler behind as it dipped and lifted and the rounds dimpled and clenched like a beautiful living statue.
‘Keep going!’ Krista challenged, and lovely Nicky did, her face growing redder and dripping with perspiration, the cords in her neck standing out. It was a long while before she collapsed with a great gasp, and lay with her face touching the floor, her whole body quivering.
‘Well done!’ Krista cried gleefully. ‘You see?’ She turned to the rest of us. ‘Aren’t you all ashamed to be so feeble? Now, on your backs – let’s give you a little thrill to finish, yes?’ Nicky did not move, and Krista paid her no attention. She made us lift our legs with our knees locked vertically in the air. I felt my tummy muscles straining like overstretched violin strings in protest, and moaned at the effort. Then she made us open our legs wide and lower them slowly to the floor, keeping them stiff and straight all the while. You can guess what a view this gave her, a view she gave every evidence of enjoying as she made us repeat the manoeuvre nine more times, as slowly as we could.
She came and stood in front of me as I made the groaning effort for the last time, and she caught my ankles as I raised them high. She parted them, held my legs open, and I relaxed, letting her warm hands take the strain. Looking up at the dominant woman, I shamefully felt an excited pulsing in my vagina, and felt the oily secretion of desire in the cleft that was so mercilessly opened to her. She put her booted foot very gently on my mound, over my dark triangle, and pressed lightly, rolling the cushioned pad of flesh under her sole in a circular motion, and the muscles of my inner thighs tightened as I bit my lower lip. She felt my movement and smiled broadly as my eyes stared up at her, filled with tears.
‘What a charming sight,’ she murmured. Her wicked lips pursed and blew a kiss, and then she released my ankles and left the room.
‘Why don’t you ask her what’s going on?’ someone demanded pointedly when she had gone. ‘What’s being done to get us out of here?’
I blushed deeply. ‘I can’t,’ I said defensively. ‘You know what she’s like – what she’s already done.’ My hand gestured towards my bottom, but my challenger snorted a derisive laugh and shook her head.
‘Yes, but that was before,’ she went on. ‘Now you’re clearly her favourite, so you might as well put your talents to some use. I mean for all of us, as well as for yourself.’
‘Don’t be so stupid,’ Moira countered on my behalf. ‘You know it’s not Jane’s fault Krista picked on her. Just be thankful Jane can make a difference. She hasn’t beaten anyone since Anita, has she? Believe me, if Jane can keep her sweet, it’s good for all of us.’ Moira slipped an arm around my waist as she made this spirited defence, and though I was grateful for the support, it did not ease my discomfort at the situation I unwittingly found myself in, especially when I saw my attacker give a conspiring sideways glance at those near her.
That evening, we had already finished our simple meal and one of the guards had cleared away the dishes and departed before Krista reappeared. As usual, she wore her military-style shirt and slacks.
‘Come with me,’ she said, pointing at Nicky, and then without another word she turned and strode towards the door through which she had entered.
Nicky rose, clutching the blanket loosely around her chest. ‘But why?’ Her voice betrayed her anxiety. She glanced round at the rest of us, seeking support. ‘What do you want me for? Where are you taking me?’
Krista turned, her face showing only a mild expression of surprise. ‘I beg your pardon?’ she said. ‘What on earth has that got to do with you?’ She came back to the row of mattresses, and Nicky nervously lifted the blanket higher. ‘I thought you had learnt by now.’ The voice was still soft, perfectly poised. ‘You simply do as you are told. You of all people should know that, slut.’
Nicky’s blue eyes were wide with trepidation. ‘I’ve told you before,’ she said with little conviction, ‘I am not a slut.’ Then she pulled her shoulders back with as much defiance as she could muster. ‘And I have rights. We all have rights. We’re not animals. Keeping us like this is not acceptable. Keeping us naked, with those wretched men leering at us the whole time.’ She fell silent, and suddenly seemed to realise that she’d perhaps made a big mistake. Doubt could now be seen in her eyes and her posture.
Krista shook her head and said, ‘No, have I not made it clear by now that you have no rights?’ she asked, almost sounding reasonable. ‘You have no rights at all. You have no tights at all,’ she repeated. ‘You belong to us now, and we do whatever we like with you. You are our property.’ She smiled. ‘And a very desirable property, too.’ She shook her head again, this time with a gesture of impatience, and moved right up close to Nicky, who visibly tensed. ‘I guess you think you are a big girl now, no?’ Krista said with sudden vehemence. ‘Maybe you think I am afraid of you, no?’
Nicky looked round at us, her eyes seeking help – but there was none forthcoming.
‘I do not need the guards, baby,’ Krista went on, ‘or even a gun, to make you obey me at all times.’ She pushed her face within inches of Nicky’s, who
had to lean back slightly. ‘Come on,’ Krista challenged softly, totally composed as she held up her hands in invitation. ‘Drop the blanket. We’ve all seen you naked. Show us how tough you are, yes?’ She reached out, snatched the blanket out of Nicky’s grasp, and tossed it aside. ‘Come on, let’s see you thrash me… slut.’
With a convulsive sob and a scream, Nicky launched herself at her tormentor, her hands raised to grab her by the throat. But Krista swayed away with ease, her right arm came back a little, and she drove a short but vicious punch into Nicky’s midriff just at the base of her ribcage. There was a soft thud, and I heard the cutting off of air, followed by a muffled gasp as Nicky folded, her hands dropping to clutch at the agony that exploded in her gut. As she fell, there was another sickening crunch when Krista’s other first slammed up and caught the girl on the jaw, sending the cropped golden head snapping back.
The force of the vicious blow spun Nicky sideways and she fell heavily, her legs crumpling beneath her. Those two cruel blows, punches delivered at bewildering speed and with cruel force, were enough to end the confrontation, and I remembered the clenched fist that had struck Carl in the mouth.
Nicky was wheezing and gagging, her body folded on the floor, but Krista was not about to let it end there. She bent and seized the girl under one arm, but even she had to struggle to lift the dead weight. Clearly one or both punches had knocked Nicky near senseless. She looked utterly incapable of moving, let alone standing by herself.
‘Jane,’ Krista panted, ‘come here and help me.’
Without thinking, I hastened forward. I stooped to wedge my shoulder beneath Nicky’s other arm, and between us we dragged and lugged the sack-like body to the door, and through it.
We were in a corridor. Only a few yards from me was a glass double door through which I could see the grey of the short twilight. The dark shapes of two sentries showed up through the glass. An armed guard stood at a door directly opposite the one we had passed through, and it occurred to me that on the other side of it might be the men – including my husband.
‘Up the stairs.’ The snapped words drew me from my brief speculation. Feet trailing and bumping up the concrete steps, Nicky slumped between us gasping for air and moaning incoherently. Her chin was sunk against her chest. By the time we got to the top of the short flight of stairs, my own breath was nearly as noisy as the poor girl’s from the strain of supporting her, and my naked body was gleaming with perspiration. Krista, too, was struggling a little as we staggered along another corridor, then through a door to the left.
We were in a room that was plainly but smartly furnished, though I had no chance to take stock of it until we had dragged our burden the last yard or two to a single bed, and dropped her gratefully onto its protesting springs.
It felt weird to be standing naked in such normal surroundings. I could see my pale reflection in the dressing table mirror. Even the contact of the rug under my feet was strange. But I had little time to think on such things. There was a long dark swelling along the line of Nicky’s jaw. Her limbs stirred feebly and her head rolled back and forth on the pillow as awareness, and pain, slowly returned.
Meanwhile, Krista was busily rummaging in the top drawer of the dresser, flinging aside articles of clothing. She turned, with several belts clutched in her hand. By the time Nicky was fully conscious once more, both her wrists and ankles were securely trussed to the top and bottom of the bed’s metal frame. Not that I think the bonds were necessary, that she would, or could, have put up any resistance. The fight had literally been knocked out of her. She cried quietly, her anxious gaze fixed on her aggressor, who now turned to me with a grim smile. She nodded towards a wooden chair by one wall.
‘I had intended for this to be a private moment, but I suppose we need have no secrets, Jane. Sit there, don’t move, and don’t make a sound. Understood?’
I nodded, and hastened to obey.
Very slowly and deliberately, just as she had with me in the showers, Krista began to undress, slipping off her boots, shirt, slacks, and grey socks. This time, she kept on the olive underwear of vest and knickers while the defeated girl watched impotently. Krista sat on the edge of the narrow bed beside a pinioned limb, and stroked the thigh, whose muscle tensed beneath the tormenting touch. ‘I know your problem, slut,’ she crooned in that gloating, sensual tone which made me shiver as I sat there holding my breath. My knuckles were white on the sides of the chair. Its unyielding wooden seat pressed into the softness of my bottom. I sat with my feet together, squeezing my thighs, feeling the increasing beat of my roused sex. ‘You are used to being in control, to being the dominant one, no? You like women, I know you do, but you like them to be wetting their panties for you. And you like to get into those panties, don’t you? I have known this from the first time I saw you. I am right, yes?’
Nicky was shivering, and I could see her lips trembling. ‘No,’ she whispered, shaking her head miserably. ‘Please, leave me alone.’
‘Oh, but I cannot, you know that,’ Krista teased. Her hand was moving, passing over the planes and curves of Nicky’s body – her thighs, the taut hollow of her stomach, that tiny patch of blonde hair between her legs, then up to the delineated shape of her ribcage, and finally, to those sweet, vulnerable breasts. Fingers plucked and teased at her nipples, which filled and pouted and swelled, a rich dark red, throbbing with helpless arousal. Feather light, the fingers trailed down again slowly, and passed over the prominence of her mound into the moist softness of the labial divide, the lips of her sex. Nicky shivered convulsively. Her hips lifted and a great sob shook her bound frame before she subsided with a desolate cry, and her thighs fell slackly open to the assault.
Krista bent triumphantly and kissed that magnificent beauty, moving from Nicky’s mouth and throat down over the trembling flesh her hands had just claimed, and Nicky whimpered softly, her eyes closed, tears squeezing beneath her lids to run and dissolve into her shorn temples. The fingers of Krista never ceased their slow exploration of her prey’s vulva, whose spongy tissue swelled and parted and grew wet with the hunger being remorselessly stirred. The golden tufted belly was soon lifting rhythmically again, the buttocks clenching and relaxing in time to the amorous invader.
The fingers, glistening wet, coated with flowing emissions and making soft suckling sounds, pressed further, through the outer surfaces to the evermore richly gleaming tunnel leading to the narrow vagina. They found unerringly the enflamed clitoris among the upper folds, and the heaving of the belly increased, until the springs of the bed squeaked and even Nicky’s rasping moans came and went in time with this stimulation. Her hands twisted in the makeshift bonds, her feet too arched and flexed, her toes curling, as her whole body wriggled in the storm of sensations coursing through her.
Yet again Krista’s lips closed over the upturned mouth, which opened and yielded blindly to the thrusting tongue. ‘That is good?’ Krista whispered, as their lips remained touching.
‘Please… please…’ whimpered the transformed girl, her body arching, rising from the bed, begging to be taken to release.
‘You are nearly coming, are you not?’ Krista whispered again, and Nicky shuddered.
‘Oh, help me,’ she mumbled. ‘Yes, yes!’
‘But there is more, my baby.’ Krista straddled her, then slithered down, trailing her own wet sex over the writhing body beneath her until she was kneeling between the parted, tethered ankles. Her blonde head dipped, her face covered the uplifted loins, and I heard the slurping as her tongue and lips, and those nipping teeth, devoured the streaming cleft of Nicky’s sex. It could not last long, that height of stimulation, and Nicky cried out, a long wail of lost ecstasy. Her body gave one emphatic heave that lifted the figure glued to her belly, and then her body slumped and shuddered as the aftershocks of the mighty orgasm spasmed through her.
I gasped, bit painfully at my lip, and convulsed in the flood of my own coming, staring down as though in amazement at the hand clasped between my thigh
s, the heel of the palm pressing hard against my sex, which thrust back like a lover’s kiss. I was very wet; I could feel the discharge on my inner thighs and on the seat beneath me. I sank back weakly, listening to the desolate weeping from the outstretched figure, and my own tears ran unchecked for both of us, for our helplessness. Even our own bodies were treacherously triumphant over us.
I thought that was the end. I thought there could not possibly be more, but I was wrong. Krista stood, went over to the tiny shower room that adjoined her bedroom, and washed her hands at the corner basin. She pushed down her briefs, and then stripped the vest off over her head. Her body was shining with sweat, just like ours. She went to the drawers and drew out a long box. ‘I must have my satisfaction, too,’ she mused, and I gaped as I watched her step into a light harness with dark leather straps that fitted about her hips, one passing invisibly through the tight cleft of her bottom. A small leather shield fitted over her loins, following the curve of her vulva like a cache-sexe. And from the centre of this jutted a long, curving object of shining black plastic. It was about the size of a large banana, and very similar in shape. My horrified brain told me that this was a dildo. The first I had seen, apart from coloured pictures in a mail order magazine I had once shamefully and avidly studied. It did not attempt to copy the shape of a penis. There was no helm, and no imitation, veined column. Just that black, shiny smoothness, tapering and curving upward like a rhino’s horn.
‘Have you ever used one of these?’ she asked, my whirling mind registering the weirdness of the conversation. I realised she was not addressing me, but Nicky, who was still too far gone in her reaction to what had already been done to her to be really aware of what was happening.
Receiving no audible response, Krista stood, legs astride, and lifted the dildo, handling it with both hands, moving it so that its base rubbed against her loins. I saw her buttocks, outlined by the two dark straps that swept upward to her waist, hollow deeply.